Surprise
by DarkShadowsFalling
Summary: Draco Malfoy finds himself face to face with a very familiar problem...What in the world will he do! Slash!


Surprise

*Basted on a picture by Diana X. Sprinkle. Originally written in late 2002 or early 2003. Revised 5-7-09. Characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not written for money or profit. Strictly for entertainment purposes. Please don't sue*

Draco Malfoy stretched as he slowly woke to the real world. It was well past 9:30am and he knew that he would be in real trouble when his teachers caught up with him.

Not that he cared. School meant very little to him, expecially now that the Dark Lord was beginning to rise again, casting a black shadow over all of wizard-kind. He, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe ditched classes on a regular basis anymore.

Draco was failing every class except Potions. Professor Snape continued to give him a passing grade simply for show. If he failed him, Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, could quite easily relay to Voldemort that Snape was no longer his loyal servant, which was the truth. Lucius was already doubtful and would be thrilled to have an excuse to get rid of Snape. And once Voldemort found out…well, that would be the end of old Severus, plain and simple. The Potions Master was no Harry Potter; the Avada Kedavra curse (or Killing Curse) would obliterate the man's miserable life in nothing flat. No, Severus Snape was no fool.

Draco stood and walked to the window. He looked out over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The grass was lush and green, even though it was only the 25th of March. Every witch and wizard with only an ounce of Herbology knowledge knew that this was going to be a dry year. When June arrived, all of the greenery would turn a sickly shade of yellow-brown.

Draco missed the quiet calm of Malfoy Manor, with its sprawling gardens and enchanted waterfalls, the extravagant blue and green peacocks strutting alongside their rarer and far more beautiful albino-white cousins. At least if he were there, he could do anything he wanted and go anywhere he pleased. Free to enjoy life's luxuries.

He'd tried to convince his father to bring him home for the rest of the year, but Lucius told him that there was too much going on and Voldemort needed Draco to be his spy at Hogwarts.

Draco had tactfully neglected to tell his father that he was no longer loyal to the Dark Lord himself.

The blond-haired boy sat on the window sill, clad in his Hogwarts robes. A silver and green patch sat on his chest, just like it did on all the rest of his wardrobe. Merlin's beard, what he wouldn't give to be able to wear blue or purple or even (heaven forbid!) red. Green and silver were nice, but it became very repetitive to wear it all the time.

From outside the dormitory, Draco heard someone mutter, "Incarcerata Perpetrare." Unlike other Hogwarts House dormitories, Slytherin's not only required a password for the entrance to the Common Room, but for all of the individual dormitory rooms as well. Slytherins weren't very trustworthy with other people's possessions.

The stone of the secret door ground its way open. Draco didn't look up. It was probably Crabbe and Goyle coming up to keep him company. He could tell that whoever it was was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him. The unwavering eye contact was making him feel agitated.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's rude to stare?" he asked, wrapping his arms around his knees.

There was no answer. The person continued to stare.

"Are you deaf or just plain stu…" He turned sharply and the comment died in his throat.

There, right in front of him, steely-gray eyes not moving, blond hair in perfect order, smug smirk fixed upon his lips, was himself.

Draco blinked rapidly for a moment, not sure if he could trust his eyes. He was looking at a perfect replica of himself. Even the clothes were the same.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Draco demanded, standing up fast.

"Well, I believe I'm you. I look like you, I sound like you…Hell, I bet we even smell alike. I'm wearing the same cologne as you. Or maybe you're me. What do you think?" his clone replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I think I'm still asleep and you're nothing but a fucked up dream, concocted from drinking way too much butterbeer last night and eating some of those firewhiskey liqueurs that my mum sent me for Christmas." Draco pinched himself, trying to determine if this really was a dream. But he felt the pain from the pinch run all the way up his arm.

The other Draco laughed, a cold sound that seemed to penetrate the real Draco's bones. "Touch me, Draco. I'm as real as you."

Draco really had no intention of touching him, but his hand began moving of its own accord and he couldn't stop it. He touched a shoulder and then moved to his face. He traced a line down his clone's face, down the center of the nose and down the lips.

As his finger passed over his clone's lips, the other Draco encircled Draco's wrist with his hand. He opened his mouth and gently bit the real Draco's finger, a seductive look in his pale gray eyes.

Draco jumped back. He started at himself for a moment or two. No, wait…He stared at the other Draco. This was getting confusing...

A second later, without warning, he was flat on his back with his clone straddling his hips. He tried to fight him, but found he couldn't move an inch.

"We are so beautiful, Draco," his captor purred, grinding himself against the young man beneath him.

Draco moaned as he felt the other Draco's erection against his own. It felt hard and big, mirrored to his. He rubbed back on instinct, his body betraying his own narcissistic lust that was moving through him.

His clone moved his hand toward the zipper of Draco's slacks, the thin fingers nimbly undoing it and then reaching in and pulling out the long, thick member. At the same time, his other hand was busy doing the same to himself.

He moved and slid his cock alongside Draco's as he draped his body out over him. He thrust hard against him, not needing time to build either of them up. Simply being close to each other had aroused them.

Draco responded eagerly, his hips rising to meet the other Draco's. It felt good and so wrong, but so right. He couldn't believe how good the rawness of it made him feel and he thrust up to him with reckless abandon, wanting a quick orgasm.

For several minutes, all that could be heard was the sound of flesh against flesh and heavy, needy panting that echoed around the circular dormitory. The sounds increased and suddenly Draco gasped as he came hard. The other one growled at that and came as well, spilling his seed onto Draco's pelvis and abdomen. He then collapsed against the real Draco and lay there, panting and heaving.

Draco's fingers absentmindedly sunk into the other young man's hair and he stroked the silken, white-blond strands gently. He never realized how soft his own hair was. It was interesting, to say the least.

Within a moment or two, however, things changed. Or more like, his clone changed. The next thing he knew, Draco found himself holding Hogwarts' Boy Wonder, The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter himself, against his chest.

They both stared at each other with wide eyes. Silver stared in shock and slight confusion; green stared back with terror. In the spanse of time that followed, Draco continued to hold him, not really wanting to let go even though everything in his brain was telling him to.

Finally, when several awkward seconds had passed, Draco managed to get himself together enough to ask hoarsely, "Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry nodded, his own mouth extremely dry now. "Y—yeah…Look…I just…Damn it…I just wanted to…" But what he wanted to do, exactly, he wasn't sure and so his words trailed off into nothingness for a moment before he muttered, "Sorry…"

"Sorry?!" Draco was painfully aware that his voice had gone up several octaves. "Sorry for what, exactly? Drinking that foul potion to look like me, coming up here by breaking about 20 school rules, if not regular wizarding laws, or giving me the best damned orgasm I've felt in ages? Which one are you sorry for? Because if it's the last one, I'll smack you senseless, Potter!"

Harry blinked rapidly several times before asking, incredulously, "You're not angry about this…?"

"Merlin's pants, no! I've never felt anything that damned good…Quite seriously, feel free to use that potion any time to do that again…It was just plain hot…You don't have to use it if you don't want though…" Draco smirked. "It's kind of a turn on knowing that Harry Potter wants to be my bedfellow."

Harry's ears and cheeks turned bright red. He looked away, but murmured softly, "Anything you want…I'll do whatever you want me to…"

Draco grinned and pulled Harry down on top of him again, growling. "I want you to kiss me then. And then have your wicked way with me. That's what I want."

Harry looked at him and smirked to himself. "Fine…only this time…your ass is mine."

Draco gave him a devilish look and sank into the blissful oblivion of pleasure that was Harry Potter.

Fini 


End file.
